


Feel Like Makin’ Love

by ratherbehere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Dean, Hair-pulling, Light Spanking, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbehere/pseuds/ratherbehere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So we never met but our showers on opposite sides of the same appartment wall so sometimes we're showering at the same time and we sing duets."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel Like Makin’ Love

**Author's Note:**

> My heart and soul in Brazil sent me [this link](https://www.facebook.com/TheOriginalBestOfTumblr/photos/a.252727674878437.1073741825.252714998213038/613320585485809/?type=1&permPage=1&__mref=message) as a request for her bithday. She wanted me to write the prompt above, so I happily obliged. It is essentially a PWP with wall slamming, hair pulling sex, steamy sex, featuring FBI agent!Cas and aviation engineer!Dean. Happy Birthday [Alene](http://destielengineering.tumblr.com)! I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> (For the record, Charlie and Becky are in the fic, but their appearances are VERY brief.)

Dean whistled as he walked through the doors to his apartment building. Becky Rosen, a neighbor from upstairs, was getting her mail and raised her eyebrows at him. He was not normally a whistler, but this time he had a reason to be.

“Date,” Dean explained. “Charlie hooked me up.”

Becky nodded. She'd met Charlie Bradbury before.

“Any chance Sam is free tonight, then?” Becky asked.

“Becky, he's married. To Jessica. You've met her,” Dean reminded her.

She sighed. “Yeah, I know.” Becky took her mail and re-locked the bin. “Have fun, Dean. Any chance I'll need ear plugs tonight?”

Dean laughed. “Don't pretend you don't like the sounds.”

“ _Not_ the girls,” Becky replied. She actually shuttered. “It would be great if you brought home a guy for once.”

Dean shot her a look. It wasn't the first time she'd said something like that, and Dean wasn't entirely too sure if it was just wishful thinking, or if she _knew_ something.

She shrugged and was gone.

Strange encounters with Becky Rosen were not enough to dampen Dean's spirits. He rode up the elevator, entered his apartment, and whistled some Led Zeppelin as he stripped off his clothes and headed for his one bedroom apartment's ugly green shower.

Sure, being hooked up didn't often come with such enthusiasm. But Charlie had set him up with a friend of hers, and since she was one of approximately (exactly) three people that knew Dean was bisexual, she'd gone out of her way to make it a guy friend.

Castiel -the date had a strange name- was CIA, like Charlie, though they worked in completely different departments. Cas was more like James Bond, Charlie was more like Felicia Day, a computer nut on their favorite TV show. And as much as Dean thought Charlie's job was badass, Castiel being an agent just fueled every wet dream he'd ever had.

He turned on the hot water in his shower and waited. It took a bit for the hot water to get to his pipes, but once it got there, it was nearly inexhaustible.

Dean smiled when he heard the water turn on in the apartment next door.

His good mood only improved as he climbed into the steam and started singing.

“[Pour some sugar on meee](https://youtu.be/0UIB9Y4OFPs)-”

“In the name of looove,” came the deep voice from next door. Dean grinned and continued, his neighbor's voice carrying alongside his own.

No, Dean had no idea who his dulcet toned neighbor was, all he knew was that sometimes, if they ended up showering at the same time, his neighbor would pick up his tune and sing a duet. Sometimes, his neighbor started it. He was more prone to picking modern stuff, Dean classic rock, but they had the same song list, for the most part.

After singing with his neighbor for the length of his ten minute shower (his neighbor's ended a few minutes later), Dean was in an even better mood. He got out, toweled off, and got dressed, whistling Kansas this time. His lucky green shirt was perfect on him, and he took a moment to use some gel to spike his hair a bit, something he only did when he was happy and looking to be even happier in a few hours.

He was in the kitchen, debating the merits of a pre-game beer, when he heard his neighbor's door open and close, and Mr. Deep Dulcet Tones walked by humming to himself. Dean checked his watch. Yeah, he really didn't have time for a beer. He needed to get going too, or he was going to be late.

Dean did one final check in the bathroom, grabbed his keys and headed out.

The drive to the meeting place, an Italian restaurant called Pomadori's, was relatively short, but Dean managed to belt a few songs out on the way. He parked and made his way to the front door, pulling up short at the sight of the man standing in front of it.

 _Dear God who art probably not in Heaven, please let that be my date_.

He was gorgeous. Dark hair, slight tan, slim body, and Dean could just make out muscle hidden by the blue shirt he was wearing. He turned and met Dean's gaze, and Dean could add 'stunning blue eyes' to his growing list of perfect traits.

“Hey,” Dean said, finding his feet and approaching. “I'm hoping you're Castiel.”

“Why's that?” the man said with a deep, toe curling voice, and a small head tilt. A hint of a smile flickered at the corner of his lips.

“Because if you're not him, he's going to be disappointed when I run off with you.”

The hint of a smile grew. “And what if I'm meeting someone?”

“They can join Castiel. Maybe they'll fall deeply in love and forget both of us.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “Dean Winchester,” he said. He held out his hand. “Charlie said you were a character, but she failed to mention charming and stunning. Call me Cas.”

“Cas,” Dean acknowledged, taking his hand. Dean had never thought of a hand as beautiful before, but it seemed everything about Castiel -Cas- was.

“So we eating here?” Dean asked, motioning to the door.

Castiel glanced at the door and back to Dean and shuffled between his feet. “Charlie picked it. We can if you'd like, but I'd personally prefer something more like The Roadhouse, which is-”

“Amazing, and two minutes away,” Dean finished with a grin. “Count me in.”

This could be the start of a beautiful relationship.

~

Dean rode in Castiel's car. The Roadhouse was technically closer to home, and thus it would have made more sense to drive separately, but when Dean got a glance at the 65' mustang he was driving, he couldn't resist a ride.

“You know, someone in my building has one of these babies,” Dean said, splaying a hand on the dashboard. “I've never seen the owner, so I've never been able to ask for a ride.”

“Well fortunately, now you have me and don't have to get your fix in elsewhere,” Castiel said, sending him a loaded look. Dean smiled back. This guy was amazing.

They talked about classic cars for the short drive, and continued talking about cars in the bar. They talked about work, Castiel assuring him his job wasn't as glamorous as the movies made it seem. Dean, an engineer at a local aviation company, assured him engineers were _much_ more exciting than the reputation.

No matter the topic, the energy buzzed between them and only seemed to pick up. It didn't help that Cas moaned like a porn star when he first bit into his burger. Dean didn't realize he was staring until Cas opened his eyes and met his gaze. He held up his thumb, dripping with bacon grease, and Dean couldn't say no. He sucked the thumb into his mouth and both of them made sounds that should never be uttered in public.

Castiel was clearly no less effected, breathing heavily as Dean nipped at his thumb, completely unaware that his burger was dripping grease onto the table.

Dean pulled away and had to clear his throat to speak. “Should we head out now?” he asked. Castiel's eyes dilated even further.

“I can't imagine anything I'd like to do more,” Castiel replied, his voice even deeper than normal. “But these are Roadhouse burgers and Ellen will skin us if we leave them uneaten.”

Dean chuckled. “That's true,” he agreed. “I suppose I could manage to eat first.”

“Yes, well,” Castiel said, “Don't get too full.” This time, he actually added a wink.

Oh god. Dean was going to cream himself in the bar if the energy between them got any stronger. Cas was hot, he was smart, he was funny, and he was sexy as hell. Truthfully, Dean couldn't wait to get him in bed, but he also didn't mind spending more time just hanging with him. His sense of humor was unique and his stories strange and fascinating and underneath it all was flirtations and looks and touches that tingled and Dean... Dean owed Charlie a fruit basket.

By the time they'd finished their food and had two beers apiece, they were giddy with a slight alcohol buzz and a huge anticipation high. When Castiel started licking the salt from his fries off every single one of his perfect digits that Dean couldn't stop imagining elsewhere, he squeaked at their waitress for a check.

They climbed into Castiel's car and before Dean could even ask the question, Cas growled out the answer.

“My place.”

Dean swallowed and nodded his agreement.

They were five blocks from home when Dean realized they were on the same path that would take _him_ home.

They were two blocks out when the radio started a new song and Castiel sang with it, “Pour some sugar on meee,” and Dean supplied, as if in sub-conscious habit, “in the name of looove.”

It hit both of them at the same time. They turned to each other in stunned silence.

“5b?” Dean asked.

“5a?” Castiel responded.

“Holy shit.”

“Does...” Castiel began. “Does this make things weird?”

“Only because you sang freaking Taylor Swift last week,” Dean responded.

“YOU started it!” Castiel accused with a laugh. Dean blushed. “And I knew every word,” Castiel added as a peace offering.

Dean's lips turned up slowly. “I need you to make me a promise, Cas.”

“What?”

“We'll sing in the shower together again tonight, but this time, we'll be sharing the water.”

Castiel bit his lip and wiggled his hips as if imagining the things he wanted to do with them.

“Deal.”

They were parking the mustang seconds later, and Dean tried not to seem too eager when he jumped out of the car. He was pretty sure he failed, but considering the speed at which Castiel vacated his side, he didn't feel too bad about his haste.

It was weird bringing a date back that already knew the door code, a date that waved at Becky in the lobby and made her jaw drop. A date that punched his floor number without prompting.

Dean was tempted to jump Castiel right there in the elevator, and given the glances he was shooting at Dean and the way he was worrying his lip, Castiel had the same temptation. But something told Dean that once they started, they weren't going to stop. Not for elevator doors, not for strangers needing the elevator, not for cell phone calls, or earthquakes, or rabid aliens descending from space. Not for anything.

“My apartment or yours?” Dean asked.

“Yours is closer,” Castiel responded as the elevator chimed and the door opened. He fisted his hands in Dean's shirt and pulled him out, maneuvering backwards until he bumped straight into Dean's door.

Dean was too busy staring at Castiel's lips, dying to taste them, suck on them, nibble them, to understand the look Castiel was sending him.

“Keys, Dean,” Castiel said, un-fisting his hands, running them down Dean's sides, sliding them back around his hips, and grabbing Dean's ass. “Hurry. [I want you](https://youtu.be/WH3_5cq5F_0).” He sang it.

Dean grunted, his pelvis hitting Castiel's, unsurprised to find some excitement already blooming on both sides.

“That would be a lot easier if you weren't manhandling me, you Bob Dylan hippie,” Dean complained, trying to get his hand into his pocket. Castiel grinned.

Castiel was unapologetically grinding on him by the time Dean got the door unlocked, and it took barely two seconds before he found himself on the other side of the door, pressed tight against it, while Cas attached his lips to his neck and sucked. Dean groaned and threw his head back, banging it into the wood door behind him.

“Shit, Cas,” Dean said. He tangled a hand in Castiel's hair and pulled his head up, crushing his plump lips into his own. Castiel pressed into him like they were wrenched together by gravity.

Their hips were flush again and Castiel was grinding Dean into the door. Not that Dean was complaining- his hand that wasn't tight against Castiel's skull was gripping Castiel's ass, pulling him closer.

The kiss was filthy and deep and by the time they broke for air, Dean was panting.

“Less clothes,” Castiel demanded.

Clothes were disappearing in a blur of open mouthed kisses, and somehow, they were making it toward the bedroom. By the time Dean was bouncing onto his mattress, he was down to boxers and jeans, both of which had gotten tangled around his knees. Castiel's own pants were merely unbuttoned.

He was just about to mention how unfair that was when Castiel growled. Literally _growled_ looking down at Dean. Castiel looked positively feral. He rid Dean of the last of his clothes, and wasted no time sliding between Dean's legs. He licked is lips and then Dean's length was swallowed whole.

Dean cried out in surprise, throwing back his head. “Mother fucker!”

It turned out Castiel's mouth was sinful in ever possible way. His tongue danced across his Dean's skin, pulling at every nerve he had, making Dean light up inside like a firework. Dean was normally good at blow job etiquette, but he couldn't help himself and was thrusting into the heat. Castiel didn't object at all. If anything, he sucked harder.

“Fuck yes,” Castiel mumbled when he pulled up for a pause. He was moving back down when Dean shot out a hand, gripped his hair and held him still. Castiel groaned, leaning into the grip.

“Cas,” Dean said, his voice as rough as if he'd just done the deepthroating. “That feels fantastic, but [let's get it on](https://youtu.be/x6QZn9xiuOE).”

Castiel quirked an eyebrow. Which, with his head held in a grip, looked ironic. “Marvin Gaye?”

“Shut up,” Dean mumbled, sitting up and bringing their mouths together again. Castiel didn't seem to mind one bit that Dean still had Castiel's hair tight in his grip and angled him into the kiss.

“Top or bottom?” Castiel asked when they broke. “Normally I can get a good read, but...”

“Ya know,” Dean said with a leer, easing up his grip in Castiel's hair. He brushed his fingers down Castiel's neck, resting them gently on his collar bone. “I can be a pretty submissive top.” His fingers skimmed until he reached a nipple and pinched lightly. Castiel bit his lips, moving into the kiss of pain.

“Or a dominant bottom.” His finger roamed further, trailing across Castiel's navel. “A submissive bottom.” He slid his hand sideways, dying to run his finger tips over the curve of Castiel's hip bones, before following the line they cut down past the waist band of his underwear. Dean took Castiel's solid length tightly in hand, squeezing just on this side of rough, eliciting a gasp from Cas. “Or a dominant top.”

He gave Cas a pump before removing his hand. Castiel chased the movement with his hips.

“Well isn't it convenient then,” Castiel said once he'd released his worried lip, “that I can also give-” he punctuated the statement with bending back down and giving just the tip of Dean's erection a filthy little suck. “Or-” he took Dean's hand in his own and guided it back, over his hips and further, under his underwear, and just until Dean's fingers brushed his crack. “Receive.”

Dean whined.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel said, shifting, pushing Dean back, until he was straddling him, pushing Dean down with his weight. The view was gorgeous until his hands found Dean's and pinned them above his head, forcing Dean's gaze to focus on wide blue eyes. “Give or receive?”

Castiel played dirty. He accented the question with a press of his hips. And since his jeans were only unzipped, but otherwise still on, Dean felt the bite of cold metal press into his most heated and sensitive bits. It didn't hurt per se, but it sent a new, thrilling zip across Dean's nerve system and certainly helped Dean decide what he wanted.

“Receive,” he croaked.

Castiel's eyes went wide with arousal. He looked like a wolf in heat. It was both terrifying and exciting, especially when he bent down and bit the meat of Dean's shoulder. Teeth pressed in, followed by suction, and then an easing of pressure as Castiel's tongue flickered over the bite.

Dean thrashed, helplessly aroused, and, with his hands pinned, utterly powerless to do anything about it. Which only added to the arousal.

“Sorry,” Castiel said, his voice rough. “I can't seem to help myself with you.”

“Just-” he started through his panting, “don't break skin. And nowhere a shirt can't cover.”

Castiel looked slightly surprised and he nodded sharply.

“I'll keep that in mind,” Castiel said. “But if we keep at that, we won't get to this.” He released Dean's hands to give Dean's dick a squeeze. “Or this,” he added, standing.

Dean licked his lips as Castiel slid his jeans down his legs, finally giving Dean a full view of his perfectly sculpted body. Seriously, who cast a spell on a Greek statue to give life to Castiel?

His eyes zeroed in on the hard cock standing proud and Dean moaned at the thought of getting that inside himself. The flushed head and rigid length were as perfect as everything else was.

“Nightstand on the left,” Dean directed, tearing his eyes from the sight and flipping himself over, sticking his ass in the air. Castiel made a little sound behind him, so he wiggled his rear. “Get the lube and you can play with it.”

Castiel tripped over his jeans in his rush to the drawer. Dean chuckled.

“Hope you're more graceful than that in bed.”

Castiel shot him a glare as he moved back behind Dean and before he could ponder the implications of that look, a loud smack resounded and his left butt cheek tingled where Castiel's hand had landed.

He looked over his shoulder at Castiel, his jaw slack.

“I'm as graceful as an angel, Dean,” Castiel said. “Have faith.”

Faith or not, “You spanked me!” Dean accused.

“You liked it,” Castiel added with a shrug.

Well. Yeah. He kind of did. Castiel was quickly sussing out his deepest secrets and most burried desires, and he was doing it all like it was second nature. It was thrilling. And terrifying. Everything about Castiel seemed to be both thrilling and terrifying.

Dean hadn't heard the cap pop open, so the press of slicked fingers to his hole caused him to jump in surprise. Then Castiel's slim fingers were pressing past his rim, sliding inside.

It felt so freaking good. It had been a while since he'd been with a guy, let alone one so gorgeous or talented. He needed this so bad, to be breached, and finger fucked. To be royally fucked out.

“Mmm,” he mumbled into the bed. “More Cas, c'mon.” Castiel sped up, but it still wasn't enough. “You'll fucking bite me and spank me, but you're going to treat my hole like it's made of lace?” he looked over his shoulder and made sure Castiel's eyes were locked on his own before he continued. “Own me, Cas.”

“Fuck,” Castiel mumbled. He went from one finger to three in a heartbeat, plunging them in roughly, fucking Dean with them hard and deep.

“Yes, fuck yes!” Dean moaned loudly, thrusting back into Castiel.

“Shhh,” Castiel whispered mockingly. “Your next door neighbor might hear.”

Later, when Dean could think properly, he'd find that funny. But right now there wasn't much higher brain function happening, not now that Castiel was totally with the program, giving as hard as Dean was taking, pressing back and grinding into Castiel's fingers. Castiel's other hand snuck underneath his body and gripped his dick. Dean was so horny, he could barely stand it.

The bite Castiel applied to his butt cheek nearly put him over the edge. Castiel followed the bite with a sharp tug to his balls, cutting the orgasm off.

Dean was panting and whimpering into the bedspread. His throat was raw, he had actually screamed in blind ecstasy. That was the closest he'd ever come to, well, coming, and then not actually... coming.

He barely registered the sound of a condom packet being opened.

He barely registered Castiel lining up, pressing the tip at his puffy hole.

But Dean definitely registered when Castiel slammed home in one smooth go. He screamed again.

“Dean,” Castiel growled, gripping his hips and setting a blinding pace from the start. He was carefully avoiding touching Dean's dick again. He probably knew that the second he fisted a hand around Dean's length, Dean was going to come like a freight train.

So Dean whimpered and murmured into the bed, thrusting back into Castiel, chasing a prostate stimulated orgasm he knew wasn't going to happen. It was like putting a bite of apple pie in your mouth and being ordered not to swallow. It was an incredible, beautiful, perfect torture.

“Fuck, Dean,” Castiel growled again. He fisted a hand in Dean's hair and pulled hard, forcing Dean's head up.

Shit, that was hot.

He forced Dean up so far they were able to kiss again, all teeth and no finesse.

“What if I told you to come like this?” Castiel asked. “What if I ordered it? Just on my cock?”

Dean shook his head as best he could. “Can't,” he whined, and managed to make it sound like an apology.

Castiel was picking up pace, growing erratic and wild. He was a man possessed. Dean was dizzy with the need to come, fearing he was going to have to finish himself off after all when Castiel wrapped a hand around his cock. It took four pumps, and with a sharp bite to his shoulder, they were both coming.

Dean howled.

Castiel nearly drew blood, he bit so hard.

They collapsed as a boneless, sweaty mass onto the bed. Distantly, Dean thought he could hear cheering, but that had to be the blood rushing around his head.

Eventually, Castiel kissed his bitten shoulder as he gently pulled out and rolled to the side. Dean stared at him sleepy eyed from his collapsed position on his belly.

That was the best sex he'd ever had in his entire life. He was definitely sending Charlie a fruit basket.

They were content for a while, Castiel's fingers idly brushing across Dean's back as their heart rates calmed. It was Castiel who broke the silence.

“What do you want to sing in the shower?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Really, that's what you have to say after what we just did?”

“My apologies. Thank you for the awesome fuck. Your ass has been most accommodating. I would like to do it again some time soon,” Castiel said. “Is that better?”

Dean hit him with a pillow. “Fine. Let's shower. But if you sing, '[I Just Had Sex](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQlIhraqL7o),' I'll never let you spank me again.”

“Oh, we can't have that. Good thing there are much better songs,” Castiel said as he climbed out of bed and made for the bathroom. Singing, he added, “And I am [hungry like the wolf](https://youtu.be/oOg5VxrRTi0)...”

Dean tossed his pillow after him, Castiel chuckling as he dodged it. Dean laid back and smirked to himself, waiting for Castiel to start the water. Speaking of-

“Hey you gotta get the hot water started first, it will-”

“Take a few minutes,” Castiel finished. “Yes, I know.”

Right. Castiel. His next door neighbor.

Life was weird and kismet was weirder.

~

The next Monday, Charlie had three fruit baskets on her desk.

One from Castiel, one from Dean, and the third? The third was from someone named Becky Rosen, and it said she lived in 6A and you've probably forgotten but we met once and God bless the existence of Charlie Bradbury for the sounds that filtered up to my bedroom last night.

Charlie laughed, tossed the fruit baskets out, and sat down on her throne, ready to rule another day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And lastly, for the title, [Feel Like Makin' Love](https://youtu.be/SEuKkcX1uKA).
> 
> A million thanks to my wonderful friend and beta, [appleblossomdean](http://appleblossomdean.tumblr.com). Her infinite patience for my stress adled brain is impressive. <3


End file.
